If People Had The Hearts of Dogs
by DifferentIndifference
Summary: Bear has noticed something missing from Harold's life and goes to find it. Little do they know, that this is the answer to their next number but will it be the happy ending they so desperately want? *No Copyright Infringement Intended.
1. Saving Grace

**Author's note: I am reviewing this story and correcting all the mistakes and improving some sections so I might not post any new chapters for a few days. Thank you for your patience whilst I do this. **

**I don't know whether this would happen or not, if it did it would go somewhere near the end of Season Two. The Third and Fourth Seasons haven't yet been aired in the UK (sadness) so my apologies if any facts are off. **

**Title: If People Had The Hearts Of Dogs**

**Characters: Harold Finch, Grace Hendricks, John Reese, Joss Carter, Bear and some invented characters.**

OXOXOXOXOXOXO

It was the beginning of spring, the snow just beginning to melt. Grace sat by the river's edge painting the white and grey scene before her. She use watercolour and focused on getting the correct shade of watery blue for the river. Too light, then too dark, some more light blue. This is what Grace loved doing. Painting, it was peaceful and allowed her to relax. She'd also met the love of her life through painting – he'd come up to her one January eating an ice-cream cone then asked if she wanted one. Who eats ice-cream in January? That thought always made her smile, such a funny little man. She missed him greatly; being an artist she never really met anyone. He'd been the love of her life, but he died and she needed to move on. Grace looked down to her left and saw a dog sat watching her - a rather large short haired dog similarly coloured to that of a German Sheppard. The dog's black eyes watched her every move.

'Hello, what's your name?' Grace asked him stroking his head and itching his ears. She reached down to his collar and saw a number on the tag. She looked around for his owner but no one appeared to be looking for him. The commuters hurried through the park, focusing on walking, not slipping and the occasional one sucking on a cigarette.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Grace opened the front door to her home. She'd lived here for years, she came by a substantial amount of money a few years before and she brought it. It was a 19th century house with high ceilings and vast open rooms. To the left was a study and library and upstairs where 3 bedrooms and a bathroom. To the right was the living room and kitchen separated by a breakfast bar, the tops of tables and counters decorated with photos of her, her family and her late fiancée killed in a car bomb a few years before. In the living room stood an easel with a white and blue print drawing of some fish, her latest work.

Grace hung up her coat on the hooks and shook the snow off her boots and slipped them off. The dog sat on the door mat, as if not wanting to make a mess anywhere.

'You're very well behaved aren't you?' she ruffled his fur on his head. The dog pawed Grace's thigh and she smiled. If people had the heart of dogs she wondered. She shut that thought out before she cried. She missed him so much. 4 years was no time at all, she'd found her happiness and lost him in a blink of an eye. No, stop.

Grace sat on the sofa and curled her socked feet beneath her, hugging a cup of tea and the dog came and rested his head on her knee, those black eyes looking at her longingly. She put her tea on the table and pulled out the phone book. Flicking through it, she saw no number that matched. The tag looked new, the number had to be real. Picking up her tea, she walked back into the kitchen and picked up the phone. She dialled the number and look sips of her tea. A man answered.

'Hello?'

The mug smashed on the floor as all the colour drained from Grace's face. It couldn't be.

'Hello? Hello?'

'I have your dog.' She whispered.

'Oh thank you. I was wondering where he'd gone, he's always wondering off. Hasn't been any trouble has he?'

'No.' she said quietly. 'I'll bring him to the park, just by the river.'

'Oh thank you so much.'

The dial tone sounded. Grace slid down the side of the kitchen counter and sat on the floor. The dog came and sat beside her on the floor. She looked him the eye.

'Are you his?'

The dog whined at her. Maybe this dog had come to her for a reason, maybe he knew who she was. If he did belong to him, he was a very clever dog. But she was kidding herself, her Harold died. She pushed herself up off the floor and stumbled to her door, she dragged on her coat and shoes, the dog came to her at the sound of the door opening.


	2. Say My Name Please

Grace shut the door and hurried down the steps with the dog at her heels. She rushed across the road and entered the park. It was colder now, her heavy breathing clearly noticeable from the big puffs of condensation. The park was deserted. Grace power walked down the hill towards the river, she stood by the railing watching the city skyline on the opposite side. The dog sat next to her. Grace listened to the wind whistling through her hair, the sharp ice wind stung her face and made her eyes water. The view across the river was so peaceful. Grace thought of all those people in the high rises and skyscrapers; how few problems they have, how nothing bad every happened to them and if it did, the money they had to find something new. She didn't have any of that; stood by that railing the world seemed awfully big.

The dog barked and ran towards someone approaching. Grace turned around to see a short man in a thick woollen coat and hat. The man was bent over stroking his excited dog, she couldn't see his face. Once he'd said his 'hello's' to the dog the man stood up and froze on the spot. They looked at each other, frozen in time. Unable to feel the cold air biting them.

'Grace…' it was barely audible.

'It can't be you. You died. You were killed. They didn't find a body.' Tears streamed down Grace's cheeks but she didn't care. The man she loved had died and he stood in front of her.

The man took a limped step forward, Grace raised her arms and he stopped.

'Say my name please Grace.'

Grace shook her head. 'You're dead.'

He took another step forward.

'Grace Hendricks, it was here. I approached you one day in January eating ice-cream. You were painting. I offered you one. On your birthday, we went on a scavenger hunt to Guggenheim Museum to see your favourite painting, The Red Tower. You asked me what was wrong and I was going to tell you, then you said to do it in my own time so I waited till I was ready. But we didn't get time.' He paused. 'I proposed to you, just up the path from here. I gave you a copy of Sense and Sensibility. You have a birthmark above your heart, oval shaped, almost like a kiss.'

Grace choked back more tears. No one else knew about her birthmark and only one man said it looked like a kiss. It didn't really look like a kiss but she' always been beautiful in his eyes.

'I can explain everything Grace. I love you, I never stopped loving you. I did it to keep you safe, I didn't want you tainted with what I do. I've done some terrible things Grace, terrible things. You made me a better man and I have missed you every second of every day since. My world has been cold and empty, I am dying inside Grace. Please just say my name.'

Grace hesitated. 'Harold…' a whisper carried on the wind to his ears.

Harold limped over to Grace in just enough time to catch her. The weight of Grace proved too much for Finch and his legs gave way. They fell to the ground, it was wet and cold but he didn't care. He held Grace as she cried. They sat for what felt like ages; Finch whispered words of comfort into her ear and held her close.

'We should probably move.' Whispered Grace, she stood up and helped Finch to his feet.

'I got injured in the explosion. I wanted to tell you.'

Grace took Finch's hand and they started walking back up the path towards her house with Bear, the dog, at Harold's side.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Finch shut the door and paused before turning around. Grace was stood by the breakfast bar with her back to him, he could hear soft tears still falling. Bear whined at him and pointed with his nose to Grace.

Finch limped over to Grace and put his arms around her.

'You have no idea how sorry I am Grace.' He whispered in her ear. 'So so sorry.'

'I waited for you, I hoped that it was all a dream and that you'd come back to me. I read in the news at the list of people who'd died and you weren't there so I hoped that you'd survived. Only you never came back.' She turned around so that she was facing him. 'You never came back.'

'I wanted to. The attack was aimed at myself and a friend.'

'Why?'

Finch led her over to the sofa and sat her down, he cupped her small, delicate hands in his.

'I built a machine that spies on people. After 9/11 the Government wanted something to find the terror acts before they happened. I built it for them in secret. It's not supposed to exist. It's wrong and unethical. If they rest of the world knew what I'd done, I'd been locked up for killed. The Machine sees everything: phone calls, text messages, computer searches, documents, everything. Officially, I'm dead. I have been for years, that's why you didn't find my name. I don't exist. It brought me to you, the machine. You were so pure and innocent, a white rose in the thorn bed of society. The Machine singled you out because you didn't bear anyone any ill will.' He paused. 'I wanted to keep you safe, and you couldn't be safe around me. One of the people who knew died in the explosion. They are very dangerous people.'

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'They'd kill anyone who found out. I watched you most days to know that you were ok. I longed to walk up to you but I couldn't, I didn't know who was watching me.' Harold wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb, her skin was so soft. 'I have a picture of you on my desk, I look at it every day and wish things were different. You're looking back at me, eyes glazed with love. Not a day goes by when I wish I wasn't with you.'

Finch moved his head then winced in pain, Grace noticed.

'I was injured in the blast. Hip replacement and three titanium rods in my neck. The man who I built the Machine with was killed in the blast. Do you see why I left? I didn't want to get you. When you walked into the hospital in the gym, I was hiding behind a screen. I saw you, I saw everything. Sense and Sensibility, you picked it up. I gave it to you when we got engaged.'

Silence fell between them, Grace looked down at her hands encased in his – just like old times.

'You said that you'd never hurt me and I believed you.' Whimpered Grace through her tears. 'You tore out my heart and crushed it in your hands.'

'I…'

'You crushed me Harold. I became nothing, I didn't eat, I barely slept and I saw you everywhere.' She cried more, 'and you came back.'

Finch looked down at Bear who looked up at them eagerly, his tongue hanging out the side of his jaw. He understood her pain, he felt so much worse knowing he'd caused it. He never wanted to hurt Grace.

'I guess he saw how I looked at your photo.' He shrugged.

'He's a lovely dog.'

'His name's Bear. He's a Belgium Sheppard Dog, ex-military.'

Grace itched Bear's ears. Bear turned his head into her hand and Grace smiled, sniffing away her tears.

'He's a good dog Harold, kind, protective and caring. He has a good heart.'

Finch looked up at Grace. 'Yes he does. What a beautiful place the world would be if people had the hearts of dogs.'

'Yes.' Grace agreed. 'A beautiful place indeed.'

Finch stood up and Grace looked up at him, upset and puzzled.

'Grace, I hope that you can forgive me and if you'd like, we can get past this, move on, and make up for those lost years and broken hearts. I love you, always have and always will.' He bent down onto one knee and held Grace's hand. She smiled a cute, adorable smile only for Harold. 'So Grace, will you have me back?'

'Oh Harold… yes.'

Finch kissed her hand then her lips. Bear barked in appreciation. Grace giggled, he loved that sound and had missed it. Whenever he thought of her, he'd seen her tears and the heart he'd broken. But she was back and she was his.


	3. I'm Not Made Out of Glass

Finch limped up the steps to the library Grace's hand in his. It was quite a trek up those stone steps, since his injury it was one that tired him and made his scarred muscles ache but he did it anyway. Every time he reached the top he thought of the good it did him. It wasn't very well lit but it was lit well enough to see. Grace walked the steps with him, she didn't rush ahead. Bear had run ahead of them and was waiting patiently at the top for them, panting slightly.

'I walk past here most weeks, I thought it was abandoned.' Said Grace

'I brought the whole building, I didn't want anyone close to the Machine in case they found out or they were killed.' At the top of the steps they stopped and Finch looked at her. 'Officially, this place is inhabitable but because I own it they won't knock it down. No one knows we are here.'

'I won't tell anyone.'

Finch pulled the metal fence across letting Bear run in and to his bed where he laid down. Grace entered, she slowly walked to a stop, gazing up and around the room and the books. She walked over to the book shelves and ran her fingers along the books, she paused on Sense and Sensibility. She'd always loved books; even more so after Harold. They allowed her to escape.

'You still have a copy.'

Finch smiled. Grace continued exploring the shelves and the computer. She came to a sudden stop and her smile dropped from her face. Finch rushed to her side and saw Mr Reese sat in his chair with his legs crossed, sceptically eyeing up Grace.

'Mr Reese, this is Grace. Grace this is Mr Reese, he helps me.'

'John.' He paused and looked at Finch. 'What happened to keeping a secret?'

'Wait… you're that Detective, Detective Stills. You came to my house and asked about Harold…'

John smiled thinly. 'She's good Finch.'

Grace looked at Finch. 'What is going on?'

'In John's quest to find out more about me and my past, he followed me. I used to sit in the park across the road and watch. John's ex CIA so clearly recognised what I was doing. He posed as a Detective thinking he'd find me.' Finch paused and looked around the vast room. 'This is where we get the numbers the Machine gives us. I have access to all the feeds I need: Police, finance, employment anything. I use my computer and software skills to do background searches and John, goes and deals with the perpetrators. We save people Grace. The Machine gives us numbers of people that are either about to be murdered or those who are going to murder someone. We work in secret.' Said Finch. 'Please Grace, there are people out there who want to open the Machine and find it's whereabouts. This is why the pier was bombed and why I left. I chose the machine over you and I shouldn't have.'

Grace stepped closer to Harold and rested a hand on Harold's cheek and kissed him. 'You chose to save people.'

'I loved you, I broke your heart. I should have chosen you.'

The computer beeped and Harold sighed.

'A number?' asked Grace,

Finch nodded and made his way to the computer and sat down. He played the keyboard like a piano and soon came up a montage of pictures and records of a young Chinese lady called Hay-Lin Bo.

'One Hay-Lin Bo, 26 years old. Chinese heritage from Shenyang north east of Beijing. She is unmarried and working for The New York Times. She has been there for 4 years, one of the hardest workers in her office, obviously married to her job.'

'A lot like someone I know.' Teased John.

Finch shuddered at the work 'marriage' especially with Grace in the room. No here, but man, he did owe her. In the midst of Finch's thinking, John came and stood behind Finch, resting his hands on the back of the chair. He glanced at John's muscular hands so close to his scarred neck.

'I'll follow her, see if she's in anything too deep.'

'Can I help?' asked Grace.

Both men looked at her, puzzled.

'It's dangerous Grace; I don't want you to get hurt again.' Said Finch, looking back at his computer. He couldn't look her in the eye and deny her something. He'd do anything to make her happy and let her be the free spirit she is, but he didn't want to put her in danger. He didn't want to lose her. He stopped those thoughts immediately. No.

'I could get a job there and watch her from inside the workplace. She's a journalist, can be a very dangerous job. She's unmarried, its unlikely to be anyone outside her job.'

'Grace…' Harold started.

'Don't treat me like I'm made out of glass.' Snapped Grace. 'I have survived the last few years, alone and working for these people.' Finch looked down at his keyboard guilty, Grace's eyes widened. 'You got me those jobs didn't you?' he nodded. Grace hesitated as she processed this new information, finally she spoke. 'You were looking after me?' Finch looked up at Grace, she smiled back at him. 'Thank you.'

Finch smiled. 'Ok, I'll make a new identity for you to keep you safe. I'll also give you an ear piece so that we can talk to each other. I'll break into the CCTV system so that I can always see you as well and I'll track you through your phone.'

'That's a little over the top Finch?' asked John, the same tone of voice as before.

Finch jumped up as quickly as he could and turned around to face John. Even though he was a few inches shorter than John, the unexpectedness of the movement had thrown him slightly. 'I am not losing her again.'

John stared down at Finch, the fire burning behind his eyes. He spoke in a low and dangerous voice, 'Send me her home and work address. I'll update you later.' John walked out, not looking back. Harold waited until he could hear his footsteps no more. He looked at Grace.

'I'm sorry, I don't want to lose you again.'

'I understand, but I'm not made out of glass Harold.'

'John's not normally like this.'

'He's a troubled man, he's seen and done some very bad things. He's fought in many places and done many things darker than black ops. He's just adjusting, he lost the woman he loved too and he blames himself. They paused.

'This cover ID then, I sometimes used the name Grace Ellsworth.'

Finch smiled at her and sat back down. 'Grace Ellsworth it is then. Ok, you're a journalist.' He pushed his chair back and opened one of the drawers and took out a bank card and gave it to Grace. 'Use this; any transactions will not be traced. It also has all the money you'll need.'

'I never loved you for your money Harold. The money doesn't matter to me.'

'That's why I love you.' He smiled at up at her sweetly, the love shining in his eyes. He looked back at the screen and typed. 'You are working as a junior journalist in the same office as Hay-Lin. Make friends with her; see if you can work on the same projects. I'll give you bugs to plant and talk to through how to clone phones etc. I'll have eyes on you so can guide you if you need it. But before all that, Mrs Ellsworth…' Grace loved the way 'Mrs' rolled off his tongue. 'A change of wardrobe?' he suggested.

Grace giggled and kisses Finch. She'd missed his playfulness.

'I'll always be here watching and listening, keeping you safe.'

Grace kissed him again and happily walked to the steps and left. Finch watched her go, he wanted to keep her safe but she'd always been a free spirit and he vowed never to cage her. But John hadn't taken this well. There had been times when John had fallen asleep on the sofa and talked in his sleep. It was always about Jessica – how much he loved her, how different things would be. John missed Jessica, and Grace's return into his life had been a lot to cope with and adapt to, he just hoped that they could move past this.


	4. Marshall Havers

Marshall Havers was a man who always got what he wanted, he was rich beyond belief and only ever had the best. The best suits, the best shoes, the best car, the best house. But he was an arse to work for. He put everyone under so much pressure and one mistake and you were out. You did what he asked, no questions asked. Those who worked for him, worked hard. He was the owner of The New York Times and he liked people to know it.

One of his managers, Ryan Beacons, was giving Grace the tour of the office. They entered through the main doors and walked up each isle.

'This is our home stories office. Here we focus on stories which are close to home and that our audience need to hear. Looking through your previous work you should feel right at home here.' They came to an enter office cubicle. 'Here is your desk. Hay-Lin is the office number two, so ask her if you have any queries, any serious queries can be ran past myself.' Ryan held Grace's hands. 'We're so happy to have you.'

Ryan walked off, Grace looked at her new desk and smiled. She flicked on her ear piece. 'Definitely gay.'

'_Yes, he's been married to a Matthew Cherry for the last 18 months.' _Came Harold's voice. _'Grace, remember that Hay-Lin is important, become friends with her and keep watch. We don't if anyone is after her yet or is she is after anyone. We need to make a list of her friends and enemies. I will continue background research from here, I'll call you if I find anything. But for your first column, I recommend the plant diversity in Central Park.'_

Grace smiled, everything went back to Central Park where they met. Grace wound up her computer and started researching plant diversity. There was a knock on her cubicle wall and she looked up, a young Chinese lady was smiling at her.

'Hi, I'm Hay-Lin Bo, the office number two. Charlie Hounds is our office manager.' She pointed towards a glass walled office across the room. 'If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask.'

'Thank you. I'm Grace Ellsworth, I will if I have any thanks.'

'Sorry, it's been brief. I have a meeting with the Boss. We'll talk later.'

Hay-Lin left, her heels clicking along the floor. Grace looked back at her computer, she brought up her emails and started writing one to Harold.

'_I've met Hay-Lin. She's in a meeting with the Boss right now, seems nice enough. Grace x'_

Within seconds, Grace's computer alerted her to an incoming email.

_ 'Thank you. Your work emails are monitored. Be careful with what you type. F x'_

Grace smirked and carried on with her research. She kept glancing over at Hay-Lin's desk, she noticed Hay-Lin's phone next to her mouse. Grace tapped her ear again.

'Harold. Her phone is on her desk.'

'_Ok, take out your phone.' _On the screen, Grace saw her phone trying to pair with Hay-Lin's. _'I'm trying to pair your phones, we will be able to hear her calls and see her texts. She won't be able to tell that we can do this.' _The pairing failed. _'It failed. You'll have to manually activate the Bluetooth and Wi Fi, that way I can get in. Walk over to her desk and do it. She has a Samsung, the universal code is 3-0-9-5.'_

'What if I get caught?'

'_It'll take seconds, Grace. Go before she comes back.'_

Grace looked over the top of the cubicle walls and stood up and went to Hay-Lin's desk. She typed the code into the phone and it unlocked. Grace wondered how Harold knew this trick, but part of her didn't want to know. She flicked the top bar down and activated the Bluetooth and Wi Fi. She returned to her desk and waited. Her computer pinged.

_'Thank you. F x' _

Grace clicked back to the main inbox page and saw that Harold's emails weren't there. His computer knowledge was astounding. This man could do anything, but that's why she loved him. He was so clever, but when they were together he was human, he was hers. Grace started researching again, she checked her phone for texts messages and phone calls.

Hay-Lin returned from the meeting around half an hour later, she looked flustered. She sat down, checked her phone, drank her tea and focused on work. Grace watched her; her long black hair flowing down her back, her straight posture reminded her of Harold's, her manicured nails speed typing up a report of some sort. Something had her agitated.


	5. Honesty

John entered the library silently. He stood in the shadows and watched Harold sat at his desk, talking to Grace. It was muffled but he heard enough.

'I remember when it was your birthday and I set up the scavenger hunt across the city. That was such a good night; the museum, the hotel everything… and you were beautiful. Your eyes shining and your hair blowing in the wind. It was perfect. You are perfect.' He paused. 'Ok, talk later. I love you.'

'She seems to be doing a pretty good job… Finch.'

Harold jumped, jarring his neck. His hand rubbed the aching and scarred muscles. He scowled at John as he walked into the light.

'Hello Mr Reese. Find anything at her house?' his tone was flat.

'She likes cheese toasties Finch.'

Harold swivelled his chair around. 'You're not here to talk about Hay-Lin Mr Reese.'

The two men eyes each other up. Harold, looking up into the dark dangerous eyes and John looking down into Harold's blue pools. They paused. John would easily win a fit but Harold knew that John wouldn't do that to him, he'd given John a second chance and he wasn't going to throw it away. Harold broke the eye contact first.

'What is it Mr Reese?' he asked quietly, looking down at John's smart black shoes.

'Nothing Finch.'

John turned on his heels and left. As he walked down the stairs, he wondered why he couldn't tell Harold the problem. They'd always be truthful to each other but the love of his life was back. John longed for Jessica to come back but she was dead. Killed by the man she fell in love with, he should have asked her to wait. If he had, she'd still be here. He had to watch Harold and Grace make up for the lost years, part of him knew he was jealous. Even though his and Finch's relationship had been strictly professional he had grown feelings for the older man; the family sort of love. Another part of him just wanted to be loved. He was a war hardened ex CIA operative, but he was still human and craved the basic necessities such as touch and love.

He stood in the street in the pouring rain. He didn't mind. He started walking – nowhere in particular. He'd been doing this for years now, saving so many people but not really himself. He craved touch, even when Harold patched him up, even that touch was good. The feeling of his hands over his skin. Jessica had been the last serious relationship he'd been in, he'd had the odd fling since but nothing that gave him the satisfaction of being wanted, of being loved.

John found himself outside Carter's apartment. For a long time, he stood on the paved walkway and looked up at the three story house. It was newish building, not more than 10 years old. It had black window sills and an old fashioned roof. Carter's blue car was parked on the drive beside it. John took a deep breath and walked up the steps and knocked on the door.

Joss answered, wearing a baggy t-shirt and trackies with fluffy boot slippers. Her eyes widened when she saw her 'man-in-a-suit'.

'Oh on John, I'm not doing it.'

'You got five minutes?'

The honesty in his eyes and voice silenced Joss. His man, so powerful and independent was coming to her for help. The John she knew didn't do personal conversations, so she knew it was serious.

'Of course, come in.' she said quietly stepping back from the door as John entered.

The house smelt of fish and chips. John took a deep breath it. He took off his coat and hung it on the pegs beside the door.

'Can I get you a drink or anything?' asked Joss

'Just a water please.'

Joss walked to her kitchen and filled a glass, she walked back into the living room, her slippers scraping on the laminate floor. She sat next to John on the sofa, she turned the TV down and turned to face him. John looked uneasy sat on the sofa: straight back, both feet on the floor and his hands on his knees, he was the complete opposite to Carter who had one foot underneath her, she snuggled into the corner of the sofa.

'What can I do for you John?'

John took a sip of water. 'It's Finch. Someone he lost years ago has come back.'

'Oh John, I'm so sorry.'

'Seeing them together, it's just hit a nerve and I can't tell him how I feel.'

Joss knew it was dangerous territory but she asked anyway, 'How do you feel John?'

He paused for a long time. 'More and more I've been thinking about the CIA and the things I did for them, I've thought about my dad and Finch and Grace.'

Joss leaned in. John is such a private person, this sudden burst of honesty had taken her by surprise.

'Finch and I always had a very professional relationship but somewhere deep inside both of us were feelings. He'd given me a second chance and saved me. He gave me a purpose and I helped him carry out his dream – saving people. You see we're beyond saving me and him.' He paused, deep in thought. 'Years ago, Finch was injured in a car bomb – hence why he walks with a limp – and his fiancée went looking for him. He pretended he was dead to keep her safe. He is officially dead. He doesn't exist on records. But Bear found Grace in the park painting, Harold didn't realise and walked straight into her.'

Joss reached out and held John's calloused hand.

'He's found his love again and it pains me to see it. I had someone once, I was deployed abroad and I bumped into her at the airport. She had a ring on her finger. She turned around and said to me 'If you ask me to wait I will' but I told her not to. She died. Car accident a few years ago.'

'Jessica Arndt.'

John nodded. 'I miss her and seeing Finch and Grace has brought it all back home.'

They fell into silence. Joss then leaned against John and rested her head on his shoulder.

'What was your dad like?' asked Joss.


	6. Hero of War

**I am writing an awful lot today, this is what happens when I have a day at home. I've also killed my fingers playing guitar for about 4 hours. If my standards are slipping please let me know.**

**This is a song-fic. I've spent the last few days listening to 'Hero of War' by Rise Against. This song means a lot to me and I think it suits Reese's past. I wanted to tell Reese's story of what he has done as his past is kept in the dark. I can only imagine what the soldiers face on the front line and it can't be pretty but I am proud of them regardless. My friend was a RAF engineer and he was killed when he was 18. His commanding officer brought his dress tunic home for me and I still wear it. **

The room was in darkness, a soft lit came in through the wall height windows. Clothes lay strewn on the floor and the bed was a mess of cushions and duvets. Joss was lying on her side on the bed awake, listening; she had her back to John. They'd taken things to the bedroom because Taylor had come home and wanted to play X-Box. Her bedroom was the only place of peace. John stood at the large window gazing out over the New York night. He was shirtless and his skin goose bumped against the chill in the air. The room was deathly quiet and he spoke with a hushed voice.

'My Father was a military man, and I guess I followed in his footsteps. He saw the world and I wanted to. He visited many places: Vietnam, Peru, Mongolia, Serbia, Botswana, Russia, everywhere. He used to tell me stories and describe the sights he'd been. One time in Botswana, after a very long day he was having five minutes to himself, he was sat on a hill and the moon rose and it was orange. An orange moon. Can you imagine it?'

'I saw based in Afghanistan, making myself presentable: cleaning boots, cutting hair and singing with the guys and over time we became friends. We had to. Out there, you need friends even though you know not everyone will return home. I lost loads of friends, an IED took out four of my men one day. I took some shrapnel to my lower leg but it was nothing compared to what the families went through, but this point I was dead to my family. They wanted nothing to do with me.'

'One night, we went out on a mission: we had to collect someone with powerful links to the Taliban. We stormed his house. I kicked in the door and yelled the commands. There were children crying but we got him. I shoved a bag over his face and we carried him out the door. He was shouting at us in another language, and we bundled him into our van and drove away back to the compound. We lung him into a holding cell. I went away to check something with my Captain, y'know whether any followed us. And when I came back my men had stripped him of his clothes and they were pissing in his hands like he was some sort of animal. Everyone is human. I told them to stop but then I joined in. I don't know why I did that, it was dehumanising and disgusting. I regretted it so much afterwards, I felt wrong and dirty. But that wasn't all, we beat him with guns and our batons again and again and again. He was nearly dead. Part of me wishing I'd ended his misery, one human to another.'

'My last deployment was to help another regiment with some rebels. We hid behind fallen walls and large debris, it was smoky and noisy. There was a girl, around ten or so. She walked through the bullets and haze. I shouted at her to move but she pressed on. So I lifted my gun and I fired away. The shells jumped through the smoke and fell into the sands that were red with innocent blood. The little girl collapsed with a flag in her hand, a flag white as snow. She was surrendering and I shot her. I shot her. I never gave her a chance, she wasn't one of us so she had to die.'

Tears started to fall down his cheeks.

'A hero of war, is that what they see? Just medals and scars, do damn proud of me. I brought home that flag and now it gathers dust but it's a flag that I love and the only flag I trust.'

Joss sat up and climbed off her bed and walked over to John, she slipped her arms around his chest, feeling his muscles flex and twitch. As a military woman herself she understood the nightmares, the medals and the scars and everyone being so damn proud. The thing is, if the world knew what they did they wouldn't be proud. They'd be disgusted.

**This is my last one for today. Enjoy and please leave comments! Much Love x**


	7. Plants, Music and Law Suits

Grace sat in her cubicle staring at her screen. Plant diversity was harder to write about than she first thought. She'd done her research: visited the area, spoken to the gardens, looked at the records, everything. Now she just needed to write it. She sighed and took a sip of her tea.

'Writer's block huh?'

Grace turned her head and saw Hay-Lin looking at her. She smiled and remembered what Finch had said.

'Yeah, I just can't think of the words.'

'When I have that problem, I think back to why and why I'm writing this for.'

'Well it's on plant diversity in Central Park for adults to go in nature section of the paper. It's informative but also has an element of what needs to be done.'

Hay-Lin nodded and smiled, 'There we go. You've answered your own question.' She paused. 'You've chosen something after difficult for your first assignment.'

Grace laughed, 'If it's easy there's no point in doing it.'

'Ah true words of wisdom. My first column was an obituary.'

'Oh cheerful.'

'It was quite fun actually, I had to gather people's opinions and find out about someone whom I never met. It was interesting finding out who he was, what he'd done and his reasons behind things. He was a good man.'

'Do you remember his name?'

'Harold Wren, a software engineer.'

Grace froze. This wasn't happening. Ryan walked over to them and leaned on Grace's cubicle wall.

'Sorry to interrupt. Grace, the Boss wants a meeting.'

Hay-Lin looked at Grace and didn't smile. There was something about the look that made Grace curious – Hay-Lin knew something she didn't.

'Of course.'

Grace saved her files and put the computer to sleep. She stood up and walked behind Ryan to the meeting. As they walked, she tapped her ear.

'Did Hay-Lin write your obituary?'

'_She might have yes, but it's not really an obituary if I'm still alive.'_

'I have a meeting with the Boss.'

'_I'll keep an eye on you.'_

Ryan called the elevator and they got in. They stood in an awkward silence as they travelled up the building.

'What's the meeting about?' asked Grace,

'Oh it's nothing serious. Just to welcome you to the company and get to know you. Mr Havers believes in getting to know every single employee.'

'_Be careful. Havers' is a very powerful man. Born in the 50's in Seattle, his parents owned a clothing company and when he was old enough, he took over the finances. His parents were killed in a robbery gone wrong. He made his millions by cranking up interest rates then selling their heads to the highest bidder.'_

The elevator pinged and Ryan held his arm out signalling for Grace to exit. They walked in silence again to Havers' office. Ryan knocked and they entered.

The office was huge. A glass wall looked over the city, a large mahogany desk stood centre stage and two black leather chesterfield sofas were off to the left. The man himself, Marshall Havers stood gazing out the window. He was a large man in a very expensive suit. He made Grace look so small.

'_Remember I'm always here watching and listening.'_

Havers turned around and strode towards Grace and Ryan.

'Ah Grace, how lovely it is to meet you.' He boomed in a low voice; they shook hands. 'Please come and sit.'

Havers led the three of them over to the black leather chesterfields. They sat down and Ryan offered tea. Grace sat upright in the chair. Havers noticed and chuckled.

'Relax, Grace. I'm not going to intimidate you.'

Grace smiled and relaxed a little.

'This meeting is just so we can get to know each other. What sort of hobbies do you have?'

'I like painting. I previously worked as an illustrator.'

'_Don't tell them anything true about yourself. Cover identity.'_

'I love dogs and music.' She continued.

'What sort of music?'

'Classical mainly, when I was younger I'd sit on my parent's balcony and listen to the Philharmonic play. Our flat was just above where they rehearsed.'

'That's lovely. I also love the Philharmonic. I've been going to their concerts for as long as I can remember. My favourite was always Beethoven's 5th. Such a beautiful piece.'

'I couldn't agree more.'

'But enough about music, what is your first column on?'

'Oh it's plant diversity in Central Park.'

'An interest in botany?'

'Only an interest. I kill cactuses often.'

They laughed.

'Oh Grace I'm the same. Even artificial plants tended to die.' Said Havers. 'Now, I must ask, where do you see yourself in five years?'

Grace paused.

'_Don't mention me.'_

'Writing big stories, possibly manager or editor. I haven't really thought about it.'

'Everyone needs dreams Grace. They are what separate us from apes and monkeys. Dreams are indeed powerful things.'

Grace lowered her tea onto her knees and looked around. 'Indeed.' She said quietly.

Havers put his tea down and stood up. 'As I'm sure you understand Grace, I am incredibly busy man.' Grace put her tea on the table and stood up, along with Ryan. 'It has been lovely talking to you, I hope we meet again soon.' He shook her hand and kissed her knuckle.

Ryan walked her out the room and into the lift.

'_I hope he knows that if he lays a finger on you, he will be sorry.'_

Grace giggled and Ryan frowned at her.

'What's so funny?'

'Oh nothing. Just nerves.'

Ryan continued to look at her. He sighed as the doors opened and Grace exited.

'I'll see you around Grace.'

They kept eye contact till the doors closed and Ryan disappeared. Hay-Lin looked up and rushed over to Grace. She grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into her cubicle.

'Hay-Lin what is going on?' she was agitated.

'What did you talk about?' Hay-Lin was serious.

'Hay-Lin. What is going on?' she asked slower.

Hay-Lin looked around the office. 'Come with me, there's something I need to tell you. Somewhere where we can't be heard.'

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

They sat on a bench in the park. Grace was looking at Hay-Lin.

'Now what did you talk about?'

'_I can still hear and see you. You're ok, there's no around.'_

'We talked about music and plants. Why does it matter?'

Hay-Lin took a file out of her bag and gave it to Grace. 'I found this, a law suit. Sexual harassment and then dismissal. Havers was at the centre of it, but with all his money the poor girl didn't stand a chance.'

Grace's eyes widened. 'How do you know this?'

'You're the replacement. I saw Ryan looking through her desk in occasions. They also had meetings with her, they asked her to work late. Grace. They don't have those meetings with everyone, I could walk past Havers in the street and he'd have no idea I work for him. They are singling you out.'

'Why?'

'I don't know.'

'_Grace, Hay-Lin is telling the truth. Maddie Wilson worked for them but took Havers to court for sexual harassment and unlawful dismissal.' Finch paused. 'She was found dead a few days later. Apparent suicide.'_

Grace was scared. 'What do I do?' she asked quietly.

'Don't make a fuss. Don't give them the opportunity. I'm sorry Grace; I don't want them same to happen to someone has happy and beautiful as you.'

Hay-Lin packed the file away and left Grace sitting on the bench, shocked. Grace couldn't believe this, is that was all this was about. She'd been sent in uncovered to find a whistle-blower not become the bosses latest conquest. She couldn't do this anymore.


	8. A Human Level of Fear

Harold stared at the computer screen in shock. Around the live CCTV feed of Grace in the park were Police Reports and Transcripts of the sexual harassment. He didn't want to read any of it. He'd put Grace in danger and he kicked himself for it.

'_Harold… Are you there?' _her voice was so quiet and shaky. Oh Grace.

'Always.'

'_What do we do Harold?'_

'I don't want you in there. It's too dangerous.'

'_We need to find the whistle-blower.'_

Harold closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. 'I need you more.'

He heard her choke back a sob.

'_We need to tell John Harold. I'll keep going, I'll be careful. You can always see and hear me. You can warn me.'_

'Not all the time. Come back to the library.'

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

As soon as Grace walked around the corner, Finch was up on his feet and hugging Grace. She cried into his blazer shoulder. He put his arms around her and, together they sat down on the sofa. He held her. This was the harsh reality of what they do. It's tough. Finch and Reese were both hardened by loss and war, they didn't always seen troubles on a human level. Grace was scared of what was going to happen to her but the trouble was that she couldn't leave without it becoming suspicious. Grace moved her head to look at Finch.

'I'm so sorry.' She said through sobs.

Finch's face softened and he cuddled her again. 'Oh no, don't be. You've done so well. You've planted the bugs and surveillance equipment; you've been brilliant. I've found so much from those bugs. Do you want to see?'

Grace nodded and they got up and walked over to the computer table. Finch sat himself down in his chair and patted his left leg. Grace looked at him sceptically.

'It's my good leg.'

Grace smiled and perched in Finch's good leg. They looked at the screen. He clicked on various icons and typed in commands on the keyboard. The screen came alive with hundreds of articles, photos, reports and investigations.

'The bugs have been sifting through Hay-Lin's work and home computers – John planted one. They've uncovered loads of articles on insider trading, various law suits involving Havers, payoffs from Havers. This is deep and Hay-Lin is at the centre of it.'

'Where's John?'

Finch hesitated and glanced at his phone then back to Grace. 'He's indisposed.' Finch looked back at the computers. 'Hay-Lin has been searching the archives for years. She started looking through the paper's finances and saw that millions of dollars was missing. She sent her findings anomalously to different publishing houses. I set it up to track the file paths so we can see where she sent them from. Some of them date back years so it might take a while. We'll need to find a way to get her to safety before they find out that she's the whistle-blower. She can ruin each and everyone one of them and someone like Havers won't appreciate it.'

'Has anyone ever told you how brilliant you are?'

'A few times.'

Grace smiled and kisses him. 'I have to go back.'

'I'll watch them and you. Hopefully, they'll have the brains to leave you alone for the rest of the day. How's the report going?'

Grace picked up her bag and looked at Finch. 'You don't know?' This surprised her, he was a genius. He shook his head at her. 'It's good. Difficult but good.'

Grace leaned down and kissed Finch again then left. Finch smiled and leaned back in his chair. Slowly, his smile turned sad. Having Grace back reminded him of Nathan. The 'accident' still plagued him, the numbers still plagued him. Those he couldn't save. Nathan. If only he'd been at the office a few hours earlier, Nathan would still be alive, he wouldn't be injured and he'd still have Grace. He had Grace back. He had Grace back. A small smile, played at the corners of his lips.

He looked up at the screen, he typed away and all of a sudden the screen was bombarded with loads of articles ranging from insider trading and bribery accusations. His eyes widened as more and more came up. He tapped his ear.

'Mr Reese. Get to Ryan's apartment now. We may have got this wrong.'

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

John picked the locked and carefully opened the door. The apartment was silent and sparsely furnished. Definitely a minimalist. John stood behind the front door and looked down the small hallway that opened up into a large living area and kitchen. Off the hallway were doors to bedrooms, a bathroom and an office. John went straight to the kitchen and glanced through the cupboards.

'Is there anything in particular I am looking for Finch?'

'_Anything that's damaging to the paper.'_

John opened a small box in the bottom of a cupboard. 'What about anything damaging to someone?'

'_Why? What have you found?'_

'Thallium spray.'

'_Thallium. Used as hair removers and rat poisons till it was banned.'_

'Finch it was knick-named the prisoners poison. It's colourless and odourless. Very deadly.'

'_If Ryan has thallium who is he using it on?'_

'Have you managed to trace those articles and reports yet?'

'_Just about. They lead back to oh on.'_

'Finch!'

'_They lead back to Ryan Beacons Mr Reese. He must have planted them because Hay-Lin found out what they did.'_

'Why would Ryan wants to screw over his boss?'

'_It seems that the very first victim was Ryan's younger sister, Zoe. She was 19. I assume that Ryan used Hay-Lin just in case he was caught before he found all he needed to. She's just collateral damage.' _

John moved from the kitchen to the office and started going through the drawers, he turned on the computer and relayed it all to Finch.

'Finch, I'm relaying the computer documents to you.'

'_Thank you Mr Reese. His partner has just gone through the front doors. It's time to leave.'_

Mr Reese pulled the relay out the computer and slipped out of the apartment. He passed Matthew on the way out.

Outside, Reese turned to the right and started walking towards the paper's head offices. 'Finch, I'm going to the offices. If Ryan has been using to thallium to poison Hay-Lin we need to find out what he poisoned and if Grace has come into contact with it.

'_Will it harm her John?'_

The tone of Finch's voice caught Reese by surprise; he was a man willing to do anything for her. 'Depends on the dosage but it's very unlikely. I'll save her. I promise.'

'_John. I'm sorry I couldn't save Jessica.'_


	9. White Lines

**I am now up to date! Yippee! Thank you for your patience whilst I corrected my own stupidity.**

**This chapter hints heavily at self-harm. There are no glory details, just the feelings and acceptance surrounding them. I am sorry, if I have caused any offence. I've been there, if you want someone to listen, PM me. **

**Much love, and please enjoy. Diffy x**

'_I'm sorry I couldn't save Jessica.'_

He knew. But they'd been too late for her and so many others. He had the chance to save Jessica but chose war. He chose war over the woman he loved. What sort of choice is that?

It was night, just past 11.30. John walked up to the service door of the offices around the back of the building. The door opened with ease and he slipped inside. Around every corner, he pointed a small pen like item towards the cameras disabling them. He reached Grace's floor, he hid behind a wall as a guard walked by. As soon as the torch light disappeared, he opened the glass door and blended into the darkness. He soon found his way to Hay-Lin's desk, he sprayed it then shone a UV light over the office cubicle. His eyes widened. It wasn't just one thing covered in thallium, everything was. This wasn't a precise killing, but the high dosage levels meant that Hay-Lin didn't have long left. She was going to die, so the next important thing was getting the bastards who did this. Ryan. John got up to leave then spied Grace's desk. He sat in her chair and looked at the photos of her and Finch; they were so happy. Yet so tragic. John sprayed her desk, only to find small residual amounts, finger print smudges on her keyboard. Grace was ok, as long as she didn't touch anything in Hay-Lin's cubicle. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the guard's torch lit and ducked into darkness again.

OXOXOXOXOXOXO

The room was in darkness, a soft lit came in through the wall height windows. Clothes lay strewn on the floor and the bed was a mess of cushions and duvets. Two bodies lay entwined; both roughly the same size, one pale and slightly chubbier than the other one. A long scar ran down his neck and back – a telltale sign of an accident years before, smaller scars probably shrapnel and debris covered his abdomen and legs. The other, a female, slightly more tanned than the gentleman but not by much. She was skinny and had muscles in the right places. Her body was beautiful, full breasts, flat stomach and toned legs. They lay there, listening to the silence and the quite hum of the city outside, she ran her finger aimlessly over his scars. No one had ever touched his scars; he kept his eyes open and looked into her eyes. Her delicate hands moved down his body; his neck scar, the abdomen scars and smaller white lines on his hips. Age old scars that were deep when made but now nothing more than white pencil lines. You'd miss then if you weren't looking. She pulled her knees beneath her and laid a trail of butterfly kisses over them, forcing him to close his eyes. The memories still hurt and it hurt in his heart. A pain that hollowed out his heart and left him unable to cry, the sort of pain that stops you and makes you convulse. He laid his hand on her neck making her look up from his hip.

'Oh Harold…'

The truth is, the smaller man was a very private person. They were both incredibly private people, and this made them closer – they valued privacy and intimacy. He'd loved her years ago and left her to keep her safe. He'd left those he loved to keep them safe. These scars were only a few years old but they'd healed. They'd been so deep and so plentiful; a telltale sign of self-inflicted abuse. He understood why it wasn't accepted but it was his pain, and no one else knew how it felt. No one knew the pain of watching the woman you love realising you are dead as you watch from behind a screen. That pain is colossal. He'd never told anyone he made them; no one knew they were there. No asked. He'd been very careful to hide them; adults don't carry those scars on their arms, when they were made, he'd sit in the shower and do them then spent hours cleaning it so that no one knew. Even though, it was only him, no one could know. He was a very private man and the world was always watching. He'd missed her greatly and needed to release the pain building inside his chest. He needed something physical to resemble the pain inside him. It also reminded him what he was capable of; it was his choice. He had the power to change the way he feels and destroy something so worthless, he'd been a nameless face for so many years, what did it matter? He had to let her go to keep her safe, not knowing that he'd ever talk to her again let alone, lie with her. He loved her. So much he'd let her go, but she came back. He only did it a few times but he carried them every day, every waking minute.

But the lady beside him was beautiful, she could see past the many scars at the quiet and vulnerable man beneath. She knew he needed love. She understood his reasons – all of them. She's been there herself, their scars were almost symmetrical. She kissed them lightly again, causing him to close his eyes. She brought herself up and gently kissed his lips.

'If you're ever ready to share, I'm here.'


	10. Truths and Loyalities

Joss sat at her desk staring at her computer. The boys had been quite for days and she hadn't seen John since their 'chat'. She sighed and picked up her phone.

'_Hello Detective.' _John's cheeky and slightly suggestive tone was back. _'Anything I can do for you?'_

'I just hadn't heard from either of you for a few days, I'm beginning to wonder what's going on.'

'_We have everything covered Joss.'_

'So you don't need my help?' she hoped that he'd say no.

'_Well we do need some prints ran, we know who's they are, we just want to check that there aren't any others.'_

She was surprised. 'You mean that you're going to ask questions first?'

He chuckled. _'Yes, you might even get a raid out of it Joss.'_

'Ok, you got me. Send them over.' There was a pause. 'Anything else?'

'_Thank you Jocelyn.'_

He hung up. Joss stared at her phone, did she hear that right? He thanked her. Her computer alerted her to an incoming email. She opened it and sent the prints to forensics.

OXOXOXOXOXOXO

Grace made herself a cup of tea and took it over to her desk. She sat down and flicked through her diary for the day – 10.20, meeting with Havers. Oh great, just what she wanted after what Hay-Lin said. She'd have to tread very carefully. Finch had given her some self-defence tips; most likely from John, but he said that they'd worked, so she'd use them. Grace found herself staring at Hay-Lin. Such a young life in the balance. She wanted to tell her that she in danger but didn't know how to how to justify it. The white lines on her nails were so clear, how hadn't she seen them? Hay-Lin caught Grace staring and smiled at her. Grace snapped back to reality.

'Oh sorry.'

Hay-Lin chuckled. 'Don't be, you haven't done anything.'

Grace felt guilty, it was because she hadn't done anything Hay-Lin was slowly dying.

'Got any plans for today?' asked Hay-Lin.

'Just a meeting with Havers.'

'Go careful.' She warned.

'I will; I told my fiancée last night and he started giving me self-defence tips.' They laughed. 'I didn't tell him much though, didn't want him to worry.' Grace looked at her watch. 'I better be going.'

'Good luck.'

Grace thanked her and walked towards the elevators where Ryan was waiting for her.

'Grace, Mr Havers is come down here. We're having the meeting in my office – he fancies a change of scenery.'

Ryan walked Grace over into his office. Grace looked across the office at Hay-Lin and shook her head. This is so unlike Havers, it put Grace on edge. Inside, the office she perched on the edge of the sofa. Ryan closed the door and turned around. Grace watched him as he strode over to her and took the seat next to her. He laid a hand on her knee. Her breathing became minute and small, all her nerves were alive and ready to fight if need be. She'd never been a fighter, but she knew that you're always stronger than you think you are when your life is in danger.

'Now Grace, your first report was simply stunning. We wish that you'd write more, how do you feel about a promotion?'

This took her by surprise. 'Um… I… mmm.' She really didn't know what to say.

Before she could answer, Havers opened the door and walked in. Ryan and Grace stood up and shook his hand. Havers sat down where Ryan was sat and Ryan took the arm chair.

'Sit down my dear.' Grace sat, Havers put his arm around her shoulders, she tensed. 'We are very very impressed with your work. Plant diversity in Central Park by Grace Ellsworth.' He moved his arm closer to Grace. 'We think that you might have more opportunities in another department. Something, like page one or two.' Havers looked directly at her.

'Thank you… I… um… I'm so surprised…' Havers leaned in closer to Grace. She shut her eyes. 'I won't work for a company where they sexually harass the staff and have them murdered.' She opened her eyes, Havers stared back at her.

He laughed it off, 'Where in the world did you get that from?' Havers looked to Ryan, his face reflected the same as Grace's.

'I know what you did to Zoe. I told everyone.'

Havers was furious. 'You're the whistle-blower. And all this time I thought it was that selfish Chinese girl.'

'She also knows Havers. This will get out.' Said Ryan. Havers shoved his fat hands around his throat and pinned him to the chair. Grace stood flat against the wall. She couldn't believe what she was seeing; everyone's seen it in movies but in movies you don't hear the sounds or see the panic in their eyes. Ryan's eyes rolled back in his head and his body slumped. Havers stood up and turned to Grace, she ran for the door. Outside in the office, everyone was working normally. It was quiet, peaceful. Havers grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back, she swung around and jabbed his thumbs into his eyes causing him to release his grip on her shoulder. Everyone in the office stared at them. Suddenly, the room was a hive of activity as an armed Police Squad entered the room pointing their guns and shouting. Joss Carter entered the room behind the first sweep; she had her badge in her hand at the ready.

'I am looking for Ryan Beacons and Marshall Havers in connection to a poisoning.' She shouted above the noise.

Grace pointed towards the office. She'd been told about Joss. They looked at each other and nodded. Grace ran towards her desk and grabbed Hay-Lin's arm and ducked them in Hay-Lin's cubicle.

'Hay-Lin they've poisoned you. We need to move. They think you're the whistle-blower and Havers men will try and kill you.'

'How do you know?' Grace held up Hay-Lin's hand. 'These white lines are caused by thallium poisoning. Come with me.'

Hay-Lin closed her fingers around Grace's hand they stood up. Grace looked at Detective Carter, she saw the men in suits behind her. Grace ran with Hay-Lin to the far side of the office, they ran through a doorway and straight into John. They stopped.

'You're a little late John.' Grace teased.

He pulled them behind him and fired two shots at the advancing men. He turned back to the women. 'Grace, Harold is waiting for you bottom each corner. I'm taking Hay-Lin west. Go.'

Grace thanked John and ran.


	11. You're Breaking My Heart

**I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. **

Joss was beginning to wish she'd stayed at her desk. As soon as the forensic results came back and Finch sent her everything, she knew she'd have a tough job. The prints came back to a Ryan Beacons with residual DNA from a Marshall Havers, none other than the Boss of the largest paper in New York. She was looking through the files that Finch had sent her in disbelief. There was so much evidence here, law suits, receipts, witness recordings. There at the back was a law suit regarding a 19 year old journalist called Maddie Wilson. She'd been married around two weeks and was found dead in her apartment. Hanged, suicide was the official cause of death. In the same paper were articles about law suits and sexual harassment charges all written by Ryan Beacons, Maddie's brother. She prepared a raid.

OXOXOXOXOXOXO

Joss stood in the office, all the workers looked puzzled and confused. Havers was crouching, hands covering his eyes calling out in pain, and behind him, in the office was a breathless and dazed Ryan Beacons. His neck was red and he was coughing. There stood Grace in the middle, she was beautiful. They looked at each other and she let her go, knowing the John was here. As soon as Grace had left, Joss was pushed out the way by some men in suits. They ran after Grace and Hay-Lin but now lay on the ground groaning in pain. John.

Joss took in the situation. Havers – the corrupt businessman with dirty hands, Ryan – the whistle-blower who wanted justice for his sister and the employees – each blinded by their projects. All small parts in a great machine in a world where money appeared to give you the right to do anything. This is why Joss became a Detective. Everyone was equal and those who thought different made her angry.

'Right no body move. Officers, arrest those two.' Pointing at Havers and Ryan. 'We will need witness statements from everyone.' She shouted above the noise. The officers moved in their choreographed moves. Swift and effective.

OXOXOXOXOXXOXOXO

Grace ran around a corner and saw Finch. She ran to him and hugged him, she was shaking.

'John as Hay-Lin'

'I know we need to go.'

They turned to go when a deafening ring ran out; Grace screamed in pain and dropped her to knees. Her blood turned her top a dark red. Harold put his arms around her and pulled her up, his back and neck protesting. Another bullet whistled past his head; he pulled Grace along. There was a hail of bullets then silence. He turned his head and saw Joss stood behind the fallen bodies.

'Go help John. I got this.'

Joss nodded and left. He helped Grace continue their way through the corridors. They turned a few corners and then fell, just inside a door way. Grace cried and clutched her side.

'I'm so sorry, my legs gave way.'

'Oh Harold I'm sorry.' Harold held her and applied pressure to her wound.

'Don't be. I put you in there; I didn't see that Havers had sent men after you. I should have seen it. There's a door just up here, then we're outside. I have the car parked and we can get you help.'

Harold stood up and limped to the door and opened it. Grace screamed his name and turned around sharply. The heavy bolt door between them had closed. He ran to it and dropped to his knees.

'No no no. Grace I can't open it. Grace!' he looked up to the sky. 'Not like this! Not like this!' he screamed. 'I've lost her once I'm not losing her again. Where's John, where's Joss? You want to watch me lose her again?'

'Harold. Stay calm.'

'Why? What's the point in doing that? I'm going to rage my way to oblivion.' Finch screamed at the top of his lungs.

'Please stop.' She begged.

He carried on screaming. 'Why? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't keep screaming.'

'Because you're breaking my heart.' Grace broke down in tears.

Finch heard them through the door and calmed down. He breathed and leaned on the door. 'I'm sorry.' He said quietly. Grace continued to cry.

'I should have gone with you.'

'You're injured. There's no way you could have known the door would close. I haven't got the equipment to get around it with me.'

'Harold.'

'Yes Grace, I'm still here.'

'We never were meant to be together were we?'

'We were, just… things happened.'

Grace coughed and the sobs because fewer and quieter.

'Grace? Grace? Grace are you still there?' He put her ear to the door. Silence. Finch cried heavy, heart wrenching sobs against the door. The door and floor were cold but nothing could console the ice in his heart. He'd lost her again, and this time she was dead.

Warm arms embraced Finch's broken body. The arms picked him up and carried him out the building, away from her. He didn't fight back, he didn't have it in him. He was empty. A barren wasteland where no one lived and nothing grew, forever alone and against the elements. He was put into the back of a car and driven away from the world.

On the other side of the door, Joss crouched next to Grace's body and respectfully closed her eyes. Joss felt guilty. She should have stayed. She'd heard her name being shouted along with John's and came running back. She saw Grace slouched up against the door talking to Finch on the other side. She was bleeding badly. Joss knew there was nothing she could do, so she let them have their last minutes together. She watched from the shadows and cried. What she'd just seen was heart breaking. She'd called John and told him to get Finch. The loss they face. The world was dead for Harold now, the only thing he ever truly loved was gone. Nothing mattered anymore.

**I'm really sorry for what I have just done. **

***No copyright infringement intended. **


	12. Listen to the Rain

John carried Finch up the stairs and into one of the smaller rooms off the library and laid him down on the bed. Finch had been silent for the whole journey. His eyes were empty, he stared into nothingness and occasionally blinked. John knelt down and carefully untied Finch's shoes, he put them neatly at the foot of the small bed. John took off Finch's coat and jacket and hung them up. He looked down at the broken man before him. There was nothing left of the Harold Finch he knew. He died with Grace. He got a small glass of water from the joining bathroom and put it on the table next to Finch. He didn't know what to do, he couldn't reach him. He heard Bear clawing at the door.

'Neit.' He said quietly. Bear stopped.

'Let him in John please.' Whispered Finch. His words were broken and disjointed.

John opened the door and let Bear in. Bear stood at the foot of the low bed and looked at Finch, he waited before cuddling up beside Finch. John smiled. He sat down and kicked off his shoes, he laid behind Finch and put his arms around him and Bear. Finch cried, quiet sobs of someone who suffered in silence. John held him for hours as he cried. A few tears fell from John's eyes – sadness. Not pity. He was all Finch had left and he would stay as long as he needed him to. He didn't know if he'd get his Finch back, or if they'd carry on with the numbers. Right now, in that room, nothing was certain. The night came and went and John continued to hold Finch who'd fallen asleep. Even in his sleep, he was still plagued by what happened: tensing up, fighting, kicking and screaming. Every time, John squeezed him tight until he calmed down. He never left his side. The world had stopped.

OXOXOXOXOXO

Joss stood in the morgue looking down at Grace's body. She was beautiful. She still felt so guilty, if she stayed, Grace would be alive. She called John.

'_Hi.'_

'Hi. I'm sorry about what happened, I should have stayed.'

'_No one knew it was going to happen. It was an accident.'_

'The man who shot her is getting 45 years for murder.' Joss paused. 'When will you collect her body?'

There was a long pause. _'I don't know. Finch… he hasn't moved or spoken for days. He's in complete shutdown. I can't reach him Joss.'_

'We can organise something for you John. Bring Finch.'

'_Joss, Finch has a grave under the name Harold Wren in Queens, bury her next to him.'_

'I will. I'm sorry John.'

Joss hung up. She looked at Grace again and brushed a few lose strands out of her face. She pulled up a chair and sat with her.

OXOXOXOXOXO

It was raining. Joss stood next to John. Finch was in a wheelchair in front of John, thin and frail now. He'd never get over the loss of Grace. They listened as the vicar said a few lines. Joss laid flowers at her grave and they stood in silence, letting the cold rain touch their faces. They stood for a long time, absorbing the silence and listening to the rain. They turned to leave, John turned Finch's chair around when he suddenly stood up and made the shaky steps to the newly laid stone. He dropped to his knees and let the tears fall from his eyes. He kissed his fingers and lightly touched the stone.

'I love you.'


End file.
